


I'll be the one

by oneofthreenerds



Series: Miscellany [27]
Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: ? maybe, Gen, Pining, Post-Break Up, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 20:00:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21524347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneofthreenerds/pseuds/oneofthreenerds
Summary: He looked pretty far gone though, quiet in the way Mitch got when he passed the level of drunk where he was the most social. Kirstin seemed to agree, because she sidled up to Scott with a quiet, “I think we should call for Chris.”
Relationships: Mitch Grassi & Scott Hoying
Series: Miscellany [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/916155
Kudos: 12





	I'll be the one

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a little while ago and didn't end up posting it, but I decided I might as well.
> 
> Title from Ambulance by MCR, in honour of their return and how excited I am for dad-Gerard to be performing.

The night was winding down, and people were breaking off into pairs to uber back to where they came from and texting friends to let them know they were heading out. 

Mitch was curled up on one of the sofas, scrolling through tumblr with bleary eyes. Scott wasn’t entirely sure why he hadn’t dipped partway through; perhaps because the whole band was together outside of work obligations for once. 

He looked pretty far gone though, quiet in the way Mitch got when he passed the level of drunk where he was the most social. Kirstin seemed to agree, because she sidled up to Scott with a quiet, “I think we should call for Chris.”

Scott stiffened minutely, and he knew she felt it. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about the new person Mitch was seeing. 

“He can come pick him up. I think he’s just been at home tonight.”

“No,” Scott cut in too early. “No, no. I can take him home.” 

“You don’t live with him anymore, kid.”

Neither did Chris, though, so it was basically the same. And he knew far better how Mitch got when he was drunk, and what to leave him for the next morning when he was hungover. He said none of it out loud, though, because he knew he would receive a sigh and an exasperated eye roll in response. “I know, but it’s in the same direction,” he said instead. 

Kirstin eyed him warily, probably knowing what he had thought, but didn’t call him out on it.

Scott stepped away from her, crossing into Mitch’s view. He was greeted with sparkling eyes and a soft smile. 

“Look at this!” Scott blinked at the sudden change in light as Mitch turned his phone to show him a meme. 

Scott huffed out a laugh, both at Mitch and the picture, before he reached a hand out. Mitch took it with no hesitation and helped Scott pull him up to standing. 

“Time to go home?” 

“Yeah, let’s get you home.” Scott draped an arm around Mitch, something within him softening at the arm that slipped around his waist. He ignored Kirstie’s eyes on them and requested an uber, both thankful and disappointed that it was only three minutes away.

He bundled Mitch into the car when it came, slipping in beside him and letting Mitch’s head settle on his shoulder. It was late enough that the LA traffic had mostly died down, so there was nothing to keep them suspended in time for just a little longer. 

As they pulled up to Mitch’s house, Scott started compiling the once commonly used list in his head: ibuprofen, water, an extra blanket, something that could be easily microwaved. He let Mitch wander to his room once they were inside and went to the drug cabinet where Scott knew Mitch kept some Motrin or something of the like. 

He brought the ibuprofen, a large glass of water, and a throw blanket from the back of a couch into Mitch’s room, carefully set the water and painkillers on the bedside table, and tucked the blanket around Mitch’s small frame.

“Thanks, Scotty.” Mitch was slurring slightly.

“Of course.” He pressed a kiss to Mitch’s forehead. “I’ll lock the door on my way out.”

He received a sleepy smile in return before Mitch’s head disappeared under the covers. Scott couldn’t control the fond smile that was on his face, but hid it by leaving - closing the door gently on his way out - and going to the kitchen. He peeked into Mitch’s fridge for leftovers, of which there were some, which completed the last thing on his list. 

He locked the front door with the spare key Mitch had given him, and stopped, staring up at the starless sky. “Last time,” he sighed.

That was the last time that he would do it, he promised himself. He could let Chris take over those duties. 

He just needed one last time. 


End file.
